


Then It Didn't Matter

by This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username



Series: The Tales of Pink-Haired Draco [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Post Hogwarts AU, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 02:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username/pseuds/This_Time_I_Wont_Regret_My_Username
Summary: Draco isn't quite sure if he regrets agreeing to go to the Burrow with Harry. All he knows is that his hair is suddenly pink, and when did he start rubbing off on Harry? The Prequel-ish to Some Things Never Change.





	Then It Didn't Matter

Draco hated dinner parties. It was something everyone who knew him knew. He hated feeling obligated to be kind and respectful; hated plastering on a smile and shaking hands with people he wanted to strangle.

Harry knew that Draco hated dinner parties. Harry respected Draco's wishes, most of the time.

That's why Harry had to repeat himself when he asked if Draco wanted to go to the Weasleys' house that year for Thanksgiving.

"I'm sorry, what?" Draco asked, not believing his ears.

"Draco, you know that we'll have to face Molly and Arthur sooner or later. And it's more like a regular dinner, anyway," Harry said, already exasperated.

"No."

"No?"

"I'm not repeating myself," Draco said, sneering. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Draco, why not? It's not going to be that bad," Harry insisted. Draco snorted.

"Something terrible will happen. I know it will, and I value my private bits, thank you very much."

"Yeah? Well, I value them too, so no one will do anything to them. I promise," Harry said drily. He smirked and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Can you make them promise, too?" he asked. Harry nodded. Of course he was lying but Draco supposed that he could let it go just the one time.

Draco had known that he wouldn't get off without being turned into a ferret or perhaps pushed into the oven. He just didn't think that the remaining Weasley twin would dare mess with his hair.

Nobody messed with Draco's hair. Unless it was Harry, but he was the only exception.

"Er, Draco?" Harry asked hesitantly, some point during desert. Draco turned to his boyfriend with something like dread settling in his stomach.

"Yes, dear?" Draco braced himself for the worst.  _His nose was crooked. He had an oozing pimple. He had wrinkles._

"Don't freak out—" Draco absently thought that telling someone not to freak out was _not_ an effective way to calm someone down. "but your hair's, well, sort of pink."

Draco froze. Harry did not just say that. It couldn't be true. His hair was always perfect. Never wind-blown, and never oily.

Never  _pink_.

"What?!" Draco yelled. He sprung up from his seat and ran to the nearest bathroom, barreling through the door.

He looked in the mirror and his worst fears were confirmed. Framing his pale face, his once platinum-blonde hair was dark pink. He took a moment to just stare.

_Well, it could be worse_ , Draco thought. He heard loud laughter from the dining room and his blood boiled, taking back his previous thought.

"Potter!" Draco yelled. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the mirror, as much as he wanted to run back to the dining room and hex the Weasley twin. It was obvious that the man was responsible for this—this plebeian prank!

"Yes, hun?" Harry called back cautiously. Draco heard the Weasel and She-Weasel sniggering.

"Get in here! Now!" Draco ordered. He heard Harry's ungraceful steps make the short trip to the bathroom he was in.

"Look, I'm really sorry, Draco. I can convince George to turn it back—" Harry started when Draco cut him off with a glare.

"No. I'm fine," Draco said haughtily. He lifted his chin and Harry rolled his eyes.

"Draco, stop being so prideful. There's nothing wrong with asking for help," Harry said sternly. Draco sniffed.

"I don't need help. I—I like it, anyway," Draco lied. Harry saw straight through it and raised his eyebrow in a way that made Draco proud.

"You like it?" Harry echoed incredulously. The man crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

"Yes. But we're never going to another one of these dinner parties again," Draco told Harry.

So, naturally, they kept going back every year, whether or not Draco wanted to because he was stupidly in love with Harry. If Harry went somewhere, Draco went, too.

And if Harry said that Draco looked good with pink hair, then it didn't really matter what everyone else thought about it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is also posted on my ffn account (spittingllama7856), the 30th chapter of A Collection of One-shots for The Houses Competition. The prompt for this one was "Dinner party."   
> Please review and/or leave kudos if you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading.


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